


In Which a Captaincy is Earned

by kreiderrider



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: F/M, Gangbang, Group Sex, Multi, all the rangers think consent is sexy and we love them for that, maga twins need not apply but brady skjei and kevin hayes are back, optional chris/mika content to be found in a bonus chapter, pure filth, seriously this is nothing more than a bunch of raunchy porn, they also know about aftercare and we love them for that too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:47:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25171126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kreiderrider/pseuds/kreiderrider
Summary: The Rangers have a tradition: to claim the "C", you first have to prove your dedication to the team by letting all of your teammates sleep with your girl (with her consent, obviously). After a long vacancy, Chris Kreider is poised to accept the honor, but first, he has to sit and watch all of his teammates sleep with his girlfriend-- good thing he likes to share and she likes to be used.This is 13,262 words of pure, unadulterated filth. DeAngelo and Lemieux have been replaced by Brady Skjei and Kevin Hayes. Ryan McDonagh makes an appearance. Kaapo Kakko is too young and Vinni Lettieri is filling in for him. Lias Andersson is back. Optional Chris/Mika content in the bonus chapter.
Relationships: Chris Kreider/Mika Zibanejad, Chris Kreider/Reader
Kudos: 22





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based on an anon ask via Tumblr: "uhhh so what if there was a tradition, of when the Rangers elected a new captain, they had to prove their dedication to the team, by letting the whole team fuck their girl? what if kreids is about to be given the C but first he's gotta let the whole team run you?? i'm sweatin at the thought (we'll pretend d*angelo and lem*eux have been traded)"
> 
> Credit to Tumblr users @christinealexandra and @thesmutpeasant for brilliant and dirty ideas, and the rest of the GC for being enablers.

I.

Chris knows.

The moment he gets the call from Quinn, congratulating him on becoming the captain for the 2020-21 season, he knows what comes next. There’s one thing he has to do before he calls back and tells him to stitch the letter on his jersey. He remembers the night Ryan McDonagh got the C. He knows the reason Zucc never took it, even though it was offered.

The tradition apparently dates back decades: everyone who wants to be the captain has to prove their loyalty by offering up their girl to the rest of the team. Chris had told you about it ages ago; both of you had honestly been turned on by the idea. Chris and Mika knew it would be one of them, so you had readied yourself for the eventuality.

There’s no way to do this in the locker room, no matter how ceremonial that would feel– there needs to be a bed. You can’t do it in the comfort of the bedroom you share with Chris– there’s not enough room. So Chris shells out the money for an enormous hotel suite; the party, after all, is on him.

In the bedroom of the suite, you conceal yourself away until they arrive. You hear their voices in the other room: the loud laugh of Kevin Hayes, who came back from Philly in a trade for DeAngelo and a pick. There’s Brady Skjei, who’d re-entered the Rangers fold when the front office dealt Lemieux and McKegg to Carolina. Lias Andersson, who intends to stay with the organization now, after the rough patch, chats with Mika. The only one who won’t be here tonight is Kaapo Kakko, who is both too young and too shy for this; he’s designated a replacement, someone from Hartford, Chris told you, and you couldn’t help joking about the AHL call-up. As the other room fills with more and more voices, you become more and more impatient. You run over the rules in your head; they don’t have to fuck you if they don’t want to, but they have to at least come _on_ you. You’re allowing them access to any part of your body; you’re letting them fuck you wherever they want to. You have a safe word, and they will stop immediately if they hear it.

You take inventory of the room again: the king bed, covered in a protective pad, because Chris knows how much you squirt. The armchair, upholstered in blue velvet, that Chris will sit in. Next to the armchair, a round table, mahogany and glass, holding a bowl with every player’s number inside of it. A long table against the wall: towels, bottles of water, lube. A small refrigerator, brushed metal. Inside, you know there are things for you, moscato and truffles and water. Chris will take good care of you, you know, because he always does, and you know he’s especially thinking about that tonight. He has heat packs and ice packs. He has a towel warmer in your bathroom. He knows this will take a toll on you.

You sit on the edge of the bed, waiting. You aren’t wearing anything. You’re already ready for them. Your toes dig into the soft carpet. Only one of these men about to possess your body has ever been inside you before: Mika. The exploratory threesomes have been recent, the last two months or so, and Mika has been excellent about keeping them a secret. You wonder if he’ll betray that tonight, just by the way he knows your body. You wonder what he’ll do without deferring to someone else’s authority.

You get up, cross the room, push aside the chiffon curtains, look out over the skyline. You’re higher than anyone else tonight; no one can see you. No one will see you until Chris opens the door and lets them all in.

A text lights up your phone. _Get in bed_ , Chris says. _We’re coming in. I love you. You’re going to do great._

You shut off your phone and a thrill runs through you: anticipation. You’re wet already. You lie down, propping yourself up against a pillow, and wonder who will be first.

Chris leads them in. You lock eyes with Ryan Lindgren first, who is staring at you so hungrily you think he might implode if #55 is not the first small white card pulled from that bowl. They all surround you. Igor licks his lips and leans over to Artemi; you hear the speech, you don’t understand the words. Artemi grins. Kevin is wearing shorts that betray the fact that he got hard at the sight of you. For his sake, you hope his number is drawn early.

Chris sits. He puts his hand in the bowl. You press your lips together.

 _Stromer,_ he says.

II.

Ryan unbuttons his shirt as he moves toward you, but he doesn’t remove it. He hasn’t cut his hair, and you feel the urge to tug on his curls, and you weren’t aware of how attracted you are to him until he’s an inch from your face and his hand is flat on your inner thigh. _I thought Kreids should eat you out and get you ready for us,_ he says, slipping his finger between your folds, _but he said he’d bet you were wet already. You like this?_

 _Wouldn’t have said yes if I didn’t,_ you tell him, and his lips meet yours while his fingers delve into you.

After he fingers you for a bit, he doesn’t take off his clothes, not fully: he pulls you onto your hands and knees, and there’s an undone zipper and a torn foil packet and he’s inside you, the first in a long line, and you hear Lias ask Chris if you like to be spanked. _That ass,_ Lias says, and you can’t see him, but you feel his eyes on you. _I’m gonna fuck it,_ Brady says, and you tighten around Ryan, weak at the way they’re talking about you.

Ryan reaches around you, playing with your clit as he fucks you, and you moan. It feels good, and you know they won’t all make you come, but Ryan’s close to doing just that. You want to scream their names, all of their names, and Ryan’s name leaves your lips and echoes off of the headboard for the first time. It sounds like a foreign language. It sounds good. It _feels_ good, his chin resting on your back, his breath on your skin.

His finger moves _just_ slightly and there it is, your fingers clench and you arch into him and you hear Chris’ noise of approval as he listens to the sounds he knows so well. When Ryan is sure you’re finished, he sits up, gripping you by the hips, and tends to himself, and he’s fucking you so hard it feels like someone’s spanking you. Your breath is caught in your chest and you bite your lip. _And this is just the first,_ you think to yourself, as he comes, as he collapses briefly over your back, as you fall over onto your back after he withdraws.

III.

Chris draws the next number and looks at Henrik.

 _Nobody’s going after Hank,_ Kevin says, _not with that wrench, none of the rest of us’d feel a thing._

Henrik smiles, sitting in another armchair. _Set my number aside, Chris. The king takes the prize at the end, right?_

Chris returns the smile and sits the card aside, pulling the next. _Foxy._

Ryan has broken the ice, so to speak, and as Adam approaches you, the atmosphere in the room has changed; less timid, more blood-in-the-water. He’s less shy than Ryan; he leaves his clothes on the floor, and his eyes roam your body.

 _I hope I get her right before Hank_ , you hear, and you see Kaapo’s replacement over Adam’s shoulder: Vinni Lettieri is talking to Ryan Lindgren, whose eyes are glittering and fixed on you.

 _I can’t wait that long,_ says Ryan.

_Oh, I want her when she’s worn out._

Igor and Pavel are in a spirited conversation. You sense friendly competition, but you don’t know what they’re saying. Artemi is egging them on, and you see Chris listening intently.

 _With all that cum in her?_ Ryan says.

 _Lube,_ Vinni says matter-of-factly, and Ryan grows thoughtful.

Adam is in between your legs, and he pushes three fingers into your mouth before he brings them between your thighs and pushes them into you.

 _Kreids,_ Kevin says. _We can touch her even if it’s not our turn, right?_

 _Gotta ask Foxy_ , Chris says.

Adam runs his free hand up and down your side. _I’m gonna be selfish,_ he says, and the rest of his comment is directed at you. _I was hoping Chris would get the C. I’d heard about this tradition. I wanted you. It was the only way I was ever going to have you._

Briefly, you glance in Mika’s direction; he’s looking away.

The sensation of Adam’s tongue on your stomach brings your attention back to him. _I’m going to take my time with you,_ he purrs, and he licks down your body until his tongue is on your already-sensitive clit.

You whimper as he makes contact and you know, as soon as he begins, that he’s going to stay there until you come. You spread your legs further but your eyes aren’t on him; they’re on Ryan Lindgren, who’s unbuttoned his pants to let himself strain a little less. _You look right at me,_ he says to you, _you know I’m going to destroy you before the night’s over._

You look away, knowing you want him, not wanting to admit it. Artemi is pointing to you now, his hand gesturing as he asks Igor a question. Igor shakes his head and makes a back-and-forth motion.

Your eyes finally reach Chris, who sits calmly, watching. He gives you a half smile. _Come for him_ , he says to you. _He wanted this so badly._

Adam reaches up to play with your nipple with one hand, the other still deep inside of you. You wouldn’t have needed Chris’ instruction, but it puts you over the edge and your ass rises off the bed as you press against his mouth, gasping out his name. Adam crawls up the bed, face and fingers wet with you, and kisses you. _You taste delicious,_ he says, before entering you, and he’s not thick but he’s _long,_ and he pushes your legs into the air. This is about him, this is about how far he can push into you, and when he hits your cervix and your face contorts, he’s pleased. _Too much?_ he asks, and you shake your head, even though you think it might be; you want to be used, you want them to take, you want to push your limits. He holds your ankles as he fucks you, and the scream ripping from your throat is definitely one of too much, too far, too hard—and you want it no other way. He fills you before you can come again.

When he’s done, he sets your ankles down and licks your neck. _What a prize for all of us,_ he whispers in your ear. _I’ll jack off thinking of this night for months._

IV.

_Brady,_ Chris says.

Brady turns to Kevin. _You want to touch her, yeah?_

 _You’re a fuckin’ good friend_ , Kevin says.

Brady elbows Jacob Trouba. _C’mon,_ he says, and they’ve clearly made an agreement before the night began. You know what Brady intends; you heard him say it, and he wears a hungry look as he approaches you. _You take Chris up the ass, don’t you?_

You nod.

_Then you’ll easily be able to take me. How about two at a time?_

You look over at Jacob, who’s got his cock in his hand already. He runs a hand through your hair. _Say yes and I’ll get under you, princess._

 _Yes,_ you say.

Brady pulls you up and Jacob lays down; you straddle him and slide onto his cock, and he sighs. _You’ve been fucked twice and you’re still tight._ Brady’s at the sideboard, grabbing a bottle of lube; Kevin’s got his hands on you.

 _Warm her up,_ Brady says to Kevin, tossing him a bottle, and Kevin’s eyes go wide—but he sets the bottle down and pulls you open and his tongue rims your asshole, hot and wet and insistent, his face buried, as Jacob works hard to stay still inside of you. He looks up at you and pinches both nipples between his fingers.

 _You’re ours tonight,_ he says.

_Yes._

_Tell Brady how much you want him to fuck you in the ass._ He reaches up into your hair. _Let’s make him crazy._

You obey, of course you obey, and when you tell Brady how hard you come from anal, and when Chris confirms it, Brady can’t stand back any longer; he pushes Kevin aside and gets behind you, slides into your ass, puts his own fingers in your hair.

They start fucking you, both of them, and settle into a rhythm. Kevin, now with no place to go, unzips his pants, backs up, and starts stroking himself. He’s not the only one. Vinni is doing the same. It’s growing hot in the room and more and more of them are ditching shirts and inhibitions.

 _Brady,_ you moan, because although Jacob feels good inside you too, it’s right where Brady’s hitting you that’s going to make you explode. _God, yes… Brady… Jacob…_

 _Make a mess of me,_ Jacob tells you. _Come for us, princess._

You’re already seeing sparks behind your eyes.

 _Come for us,_ he repeats, pinching your nipples again, more of a command than a request, and you tremble and shake between the two of them as you unleash a torrent on Jacob that you couldn’t have stopped if you tried—and then they don’t stop, they haven’t came yet, and while nonsensical syllables are dripping from your mouth and you’re trying to catch your breath, they go on fucking you. You see the look in Lias’ eyes—he likes it. He’s hard.

 _I get it,_ Ryan Lindgren says to Vinni, the conversation fading out as Jacob tenses and empties himself inside of you. _She’ll be like a ragdoll when she’s worn out._

Brady comes then, and smacks your ass as he removes himself from you. _I knew it’d be good,_ he says.

V.

Chris pulls another card. _Haley._

He strips down and climbs into bed. _Whoever fuckin’ wants to touch her. Touch her._ He smirks down at you. _This is the best tradition I’ve ever heard of._ His fingers find their way inside of you; he pulls them out, wet with cum, and smears it on your stomach. _I love a dirty girl._

His invitation gets plenty of takers. _Let’s move this goddamn bed,_ says Kevin Hayes. _Away from the wall._

Brendan, Igor, and Marc help him, and they pull the bed– with you and Michael still on it– away from the headboard, which is attached to the wall. It’s like you’re on a dais now, and they surround you hungrily.

Kevin’s back, immediately, hands all over your chest; soon, he’s sharing with Libor Hajek, who’s got his mouth on your breast as soon as he can reach you. Marc Staal rests his cock on your stomach, his hand wandering low. Igor is standing at your head, his cock resting on your face, his fingers playing with your hair, murmuring to you in Russian.

You’re tired, you haven’t had time to recover from what Jacob and Brady just did to you, but that doesn’t matter; Michael’s inside of you, but that’s just one sensation. There are so many bodies around you at this point that you can’t see past them. Their hands cover you, their mouths, Igor’s pulling you back, the tip of his cock tracing your lips, and you wonder briefly if that’s against the rules; but if Chris isn’t calling him out, if Michael’s not calling him out, you aren’t. Someone’s fingers encircle your ankle; you can’t tell who. Marc presses his palm down on your pelvis and you cry out, it feels _good,_ and you catch him grin at Michael.

 _Makes her tighter,_ Michael says between thrusts, _fuck, wait ‘til you boys get in her. She’s like a vise._

Libor’s tongue, you think, is magic, and Kevin’s dumbstruck, staring down at your face as you shut your eyes, open them, shut them, screaming, your brain unable to process which sensation is coming from where—it’s almost more overwhelming than having two people inside of you at once.

Your orgasm is a surprise to you—you have no control over what your body is doing. One moment you’re meeting Igor’s eyes as he gently tugs at your hair and presses your chin, opening your mouth for him; the next moment you’re screaming around the tip of his cock as your orgasm racks your body— and they don’t stop, not all at once at least, and you’re breathing hard and fast as Michael walks away from you.

VI.

 _Lias._ Chris places the card on the table and leans forward.

Chris had _told_ you things about Lias that made you shiver. This was one of the ones you’d really been looking forward to, though you admit you wish he’d have been first.

If you weren’t already weak, the look in Lias’ eyes would have done it. He appraises you slowly, methodically, rising from his chair. Everyone else backs away from you, without even asking, almost as if they know Lias won’t want to share.

But they’re wrong—to a point.

Lias stands at the side of the bed. _I want you to answer some questions,_ he says, his mouth a thin line, _and since they’re yes or no questions, you can do it with my dick in your mouth. Get on your knees._

You obey at once, and he takes your chin in his hand, guiding his cock past your lips.

_First. Do you like to be submissive?_

You nod your head, careful not to hurt him with your teeth, and swirl your tongue around his skin.

_Good. Second: do you like a little pain?_

You nod again.

_Third. You trust me?_

You have no reason not to, and you also feel very comfortable with the situation, so you nod a third time.

 _Get up,_ he tells you. _On the bed. On your hands and knees._ You follow his directions, and he searches the faces in the room. _Fil, where are you? Get up here. You weren’t fucking her, right? You were just going to—_

 _Yeah,_ Filip says, and you’d figured as much.

Lias’ hand runs over your ass. _Right here,_ he tells Filip. _Right here. All over her ass._

Meanwhile, he goes around the front of the bed, pushes your head down so your ass is in the air and your mouth is just the right height for him to fuck. You can hear the noises from behind you, you can hear Filip’s hand moving, you’re bracing for the feeling of him all over you. Lias is fucking your mouth with reckless abandon, his fist in your hair, getting all the way to your throat, and you wonder if he’ll come before Filip does—no, he’d have more control than that, you think.

Suddenly, there’s a hot stream of cum all over your skin, and you know that Filip’s done. Lias abruptly pulls out of your mouth and walks around you; he smears it all over your ass, and you shiver. _Chris told me,_ he whispers to you, _that you like a good spanking; and you just told me you like pain._

You barely have time to register any of that before he smacks your ass, hard, and now you know why he had Filip cum all over you; the sting on wet skin is much greater than on dry skin. You yelp, and he lets out a little moan of satisfaction, and you can’t see his smirk but you know he’s wearing one, the son of a bitch. He spanks you again, and again, and again, and pulls your legs apart and spanks your pussy, which is wet and sore and throbbing, and your body responds. It wants more. You’d let him do this to you for hours.

You lift your head and look out at the room, and Ryan Lindgren looks like he’s about to break. He exits the room for a moment. Libor Hajek, who just had an appetizer, clearly wants the whole meal at this point, and then your field of vision grows black again as Lias spanks you again, harder.

Henrik sits up in his chair a little. He hasn’t removed one piece of fabric, even as his teammates are in various states of undress. He’s in a suit, the only one, and you’re not even a little bit surprised. He narrows his eyes, and you know that look. He wants to see how you react to this. As soon as Lias gives you a five-second respite, telling you to get on your back, you realize why Henrik must be particularly interested in this situation.

You think you might implode.

Lias looks at his teammates. _Hold her._

Kevin glances at you, and you give a brief nod of permission. He doesn’t need to be told twice, and neither does Vinni Lettieri, and they’ve both got a hand around one of your wrists. Igor and Artemi take your ankles. You’re pinned, spread-eagle, completely vulnerable as Lias crawls over you, and the last thought you have before Lias enters you is that you are so grateful to Chris for his leadership skills, because you are reaping the reward of that “C” right now.

Lias runs his fingers softly along your jaw. _I want to hear you scream,_ he says, _but not at full volume. Shesty, you looked like you wanted something from her back there._

 _It’ll count,_ says Igor, _and that isn’t where I want to come._

 _It’s where I want to come,_ says Marc.

Lias bends close to you, kisses you deeply, grabs you by the chin. _I better be able to hear my name around his dick,_ he tells you.

And then Marc is in your mouth and down your throat and you can’t move, four men holding your limbs tight, while Lias fucks you relentlessly. He fucks at a measured pace, as if there’s a rhythm in his head; he fucks you hard as hell and steadily, but just slow enough to keep you right on the edge. He knows _just_ what he’s doing.

You’re screaming, muffled by Marc’s dick, just like Lias wanted, and you can’t even participate in the blowjob, not the way you usually would; there’s no way for you to really move, not in this position, so he fucks your throat, gripping your breasts for leverage.

 _Lias,_ you gasp, and you try to arch against him, but you’re prevented, Igor and Artemi having two hands each on you now, on your ankles and knees.

 _I’m gonna come,_ Marc warns you, and the next second your mouth is full of him; there’s nothing to do but swallow him, and you want to wipe your mouth with the back of your hand but your wrists are still pinned. Marc steps back and takes care of the little bit left with his thumb, and you gasp for air and yell again— _Lias, Lias…_

He looks pleased with himself and speeds up just enough, and static explodes behind your eyes as you come hard. The bed is wet now and Lias is dripping with you, and he just grinds against you, _fuck,_ he says, _feel that…_ and he doesn’t stop, even though you’re on sensory overload, even though your clit is throbbing, even though—

 _Lias_ — _! Please, Lias, God, I…_ You don’t even know what you’re pleading for. You don’t want him to stop, not really, and it’s a good thing, because he fucks you impossibly _harder,_ and you know you’d thrash right off the bed if his teammates weren’t holding you down. He lets out a deep moan, and you know he’s coming because of the look on his face, his eyes shut, then suddenly open.

When they let go of you, you know your wrists, at least, are red. Your breath is shaky. You look at Chris.

VII.

 _Libor,_ he reads.

You meet his eyes. He’s always reminded you a little of a young Zach Parise, and you have no qualms about letting him between your legs, but you have no idea what to expect.

He takes three brisk steps toward the bed, grabs you by the ankles, turns you on your stomach, and drags you half off the bed. He doesn’t say a word.

Your legs are too weak to stand, even with the way he has you bent over the bed. He pulls your ass cheeks apart, spits on your asshole, and pushes himself inside you. You’re wet there already, still a mixture of lube and Brady’s cum. You consider telling him you don’t think you’ll be able to stand, but when he starts thrusting, you become quickly aware that he’s going to hold you right where he wants you.

Filip calls to him from across the room, says something in Czech, and Libor’s hand comes down sharply against the side of your ass. You moan in appreciation, clawing at the bedsheets, knowing this is going to come quick for you; you’re dripping and you hope you don’t soak the floor when he makes you come. Kevin is openly stroking himself now, and you wonder what he’ll do when he finally gets his turn. Julien Gauthier is, too, and you can’t help but watch, mesmerized, until you hear the sounds Libor’s making—then he reaches for your hair and you come, and so does he. He pulls out and lifts you, laying you back on the bed. _Who’s next?_ he asks, heading for the bathroom to clean up.

VIII.

Chris smiles. _Mika._

Mika gets up from where he’s been sitting on the floor and walks over to you, putting his hair up. You’re panting still, chest red with layers of afterglow, body a mess of sweat and cum. He smiles softly at you. _You’re a sight,_ he says, and you laugh weakly and reach out to him. At this point, you don’t care if the rest of the room finds out or not. He’s familiar, he’s been in you before, and you want to curl up with him and be held for a moment. He obliges, stroking your hair, your back, letting you catch your breath. _Where should I come, then?_

You shrug. _I’m going to be worn out everywhere._

He leans in, nips at your earlobe. _You like feeling used, I know that._

_Mm-hmm._

_So what if I use you?_ Your eyebrow is arched, confused; Mika’s no dom, and he’s been the most generous lover every time he’s been invited into your bed. You can’t picture Mika using you.

He kisses your collarbone and sits up, positioning himself between your legs; he puts the tip of his cock inside you, just the tip, and there’s an actual smirk on his face. His hand starts to move and you realize what he’s doing; he _is_ using you. As a receptacle.

Chris leans forward and adjusts his chair for a better view.

You appreciate everything about this; Mika giving you a brief respite since he’s been inside you before and will probably be inside you again, the emotional rush you’re getting from feeling worn-out and used, the way Chris is watching, closely, hungrily, and you know him well enough to know he’s more turned on by this than he is everything else that’s happened over the course of the night.

It doesn’t take long for Mika to come, and you’re whispering to him, _Mika, fill me,_ and someone—Lias?—suggests you should be used like this more often, and Ryan Lindgren agrees, _we technically wouldn’t be fucking her, but this is a lot better than just letting it wash down the shower drain,_ and there are laughs.

Mika comes, a face you’ve seen before, but haven’t really had time to thoroughly appreciate; you can watch him now, without the distraction of the sensations he and Chris cause in your body, and you memorize the expression he makes. You think you’ll want him to do this again, someday, when it’s just the three of you in your bedroom.

He leans forward, places his lips on your collarbone, and sucks in sharply. You know he’s marking you, and this is so unlike Mika, you can’t help but clench your thighs. _Don’t forget who’s got the real right to be in you when this is all over,_ he whispers in your ear, so only you can hear it. _Good luck with the rest,_ he says, and you can feel his smile against your skin.

IX.

 _Buch,_ Chris says.

A devious grin spreads across Pavel’s face.

 _He has a bet,_ Artemi says to you. _With Igor. Who makes you come fastest?_

 _I’m timing,_ Ryan Strome says, holding up a stopwatch, cell phones having been banned from the room.

Mika’s cum is still dripping from you when Pavel gets ready to enter you. _I’ve been watching,_ he says to you. _I think I know what you like most. But I have another idea._

You catch Igor out of the corner of your eye. He has a thumbnail between his teeth.

Pavel puts you on your stomach, puts two pillows under your pelvis, so your ass is tilted into the air. You wonder where he’s about to fuck you; your ass can still feel the after-effects of Libor’s onslaught, and though you think you can take it again, you aren’t quite sure.

He slides into your pussy and you hear the little beep of Ryan’s stopwatch as Pavel lifts your hips and fucks you, hard and fast, and the angle he has you at is a good one; you claw at the bed, gasping, screaming, _Pavel, holy fuck, oh my God,_ and you see Igor’s nervous face, you see Artemi whisper in his ear, and you think they’re up to something.

 _You think she’s going to last through all this?_ Kevin says to Chris, and you’re screaming, but you hear the response.

 _She won’t even need a break,_ Chris says, and he sounds proud. _She’s insatiable. This? This is the only way she’s ever going to be fully satisfied. She needs this._

The orgasm feels so good that you’ve got tears in your eyes after you come, and Ryan announces how long it took: _one minute, three seconds._ Pavel’s not done yet though—he hasn’t reached his own orgasm, and his hands grab your ass roughly, contemplating. He decides to stay where he’s at, unwilling to come out of you for even a moment, and your moans are broken and pleading as he fucks you to completion, gripping you by the waist as he comes.

X.

Chris reaches into the bowl. _Bread,_ he says.

Artemi’s face breaks into a grin. He and Igor step forward. Ryan holds up the stopwatch, ready to go. So that’s what they were playing at, you think—Igor’s enlisted a helper for this bet. Artemi, in typical Artemi fashion, has had his shirt off for a while now; they both step out of the rest of their clothes. Igor bends over you, placing either hand on your trembling thighs, staring you down, thinking.

Artemi goes around the head of the bed and plays with your hair for a moment. _We will give you time_ , he says, and then amends that. _Little time._ Igor, meanwhile, massages your thighs, which have been clenching for the better part of the night, and you’re thankful for their care.

 _Not fair,_ Pavel protests, coming out of the other room, having cleaned up and put his boxers back on.

 _Who said I could not have assist?_ Igor says, that cheeky grin on his face, and Artemi’s grinning right along with him. _Not in rules,_ Artemi adds, and their broken English is clearly for the benefit of the whole room.

And then they start communicating in Russian, and you can’t understand a damn word. You glance at Chris, whom you know _can_ understand them, and he swallows hard, pressing his lips together.

Igor calls for a towel; Adam Fox goes into the bathroom and tosses a hot, damp hand towel back to his teammate, who proceeds to clean you up, just enough. _This doesn’t count,_ Igor announces, and Artemi comes around, crawls between your legs, pushes your thighs apart. His curls brush your legs as his tongue comes down on your clit, and you sigh blissfully. He’s patient, gentle, giving you time as he said he would—you’re glad, because if he’d have started in on you like you were his last meal, you’d have been far too sensitive to come this way. He builds up slowly, his tongue fluttering over you, the perfect amount of pressure for how stimulated you are. You’re close, _so_ close. _Artemi,_ you whisper, and Igor has his mouth on one nipple, his fingers on the other, the other hand traveling your stomach. _Artemi… oh, yes—_

And he stops, and you’re cursing at him, but he surfaces with that _smile_ and you can’t be angry. He gets up, stands to the side. _Up,_ Igor says to you, _hands and knees,_ and Artemi crawls beneath you; Igor enters your ass, pushes you down onto Artemi, and you know you’re going to come in seconds. Ryan’s got the stopwatch going and there are four pairs of hands on you and two dicks inside of you and your clit is throbbing and you’re so close, so close, _Igor,_ you call out, _Artemi, oh, yes, yes—yes—_ and it’s Artemi who growls at you from beneath, hungrily, _you make mess,_ he demands, _all over me,_ and you’re done. You know someone in the hotel is hearing you scream this time, it feels too good for you to be any quieter, and Ryan’s announcing the time but you can’t even hear him because they haven’t stopped. Are you still coming? Are you going to pass out? They push you, back and forth, back and forth, your pussy is oversensitive and your body is almost limp and they’re still going until Igor comes, you can feel it, cum filling your ass for the third time tonight, and then Artemi comes not long after, and you collapse on top of him. Igor gets up right away, and Artemi’s the one who offers you the wet towel.

You smile at him, weakly. _I think I’d rather be a mess._

XI.

 _Howdy,_ Chris says.

Brett picks up the wet towel. _Hi,_ he says awkwardly, sitting on the edge of the bed. He presses the towel to your pussy, and the roughness of it makes you jump; he smiles shyly and apologizes. _Sorry._

You reach for him, place a hand on his thigh. _Are you getting inside?_

_Do you want me to?_

You look up at him, at his cherubic curls and round eyes, and you realize how much you really do want him inside you. _Yes. Yes, I do._

He reaches out, softly caressing your breasts. _You’re really okay with this? All of us… you know…_

_Brett, it’s been one of my fantasies for the longest time. Multiple men lining up for me. And then to find out that the Rangers have some weird sexual initiation rite for the captain? You all elected the right one, because Chris loves to watch this happen to me and I love to have it happen to me._

_But we’re friends,_ he says, and you ache at how pure he is. _Chris is like an older brother to me. Are you sure this isn’t going to make things really weird?_

You smile at him. _You don’t have to._

 _I mean… I want to._ He’s blushing, which you find terribly out of place; there are dicks in hands and men walking around in various states of undress and you have no idea whose cum is still inside of you, and Brett has one tentative hand on you, _blushing._ You suddenly wish you were on a canopy bed, with curtains to draw for privacy—his, not yours.

You guide his hand between your legs. _I trust you._

He bites his lip as you remove your hand and he lets his fingers play, and you let out the softest whimper as he slides them inside of you, exploring. He keeps checking on you, glancing at your face, taking in your expressions, adjusting as you react to his touch. Eventually, his face is between your thighs, and he’s licking you so gently that it’s a tease. He keeps watching you, and he sighs into your pussy as your fingers find his curls to pull him closer in. Briefly, you wonder if he would ever say yes to a threesome outside of this experience; you make a mental note to ask Chris what his thoughts are on the subject.

He’s down there for what seems like forever. Pavel’s handing Igor a pair of fifties for winning the bet; Igor hands one to Artemi, who still isn’t wearing a shirt, and he slips it in the back pocket of his jeans. There’s Henrik, still watching coolly, his fingers holding the stem of a martini glass. He pulls an olive from the glass and sucks the vodka from it, his eyes locked on yours, and eats it slowly. Ryan Strome is hard again, and you wonder what the rules are about people having second turns. If you could take a break after the first round, you genuinely believe you could keep your legs open for them all night.

You didn’t believe you’d be able to come, but Brett’s taking his time and being so gentle that when you feel the heat start to pool between your legs, you prop yourself up on your elbows. _Don’t stop,_ you implore, _Jesus Christ, Brett, you’re going to make me come._ You can feel his smile against you, pleased that he’s doing so well, and you realize he’s probably got a praise kink a mile wide. You tilt your hips, unable to stop yourself from grinding against his face, and you’re coming in seconds; he stays with you, thighs in his grip, wanting to make sure you aren’t cut off in the middle.

You’re out of breath, you pull him to you, wrapping your arms around him. _You did so well for me,_ you whisper, and he goes weak in your arms. You were right about that praise kink, you realize. _Now get inside of me. Fuck me. I want all of them to watch you make me come again._

His long eyelashes brush your skin; his face is buried in your neck. _You’re sure that’s what you want?_

_Yes._

He squirms against you, holds you tight at the waist. _I’ll give you anything you want,_ he says, and you smile into his curls.

 _I know. You’re so dutiful,_ you praise him, _so deferential…_

He comes back far enough to make eye contact. _I’d take any order you gave me,_ he says, and there it is, and you see the slight smile on Chris’ lips. _Tell me how to make you come. Tell me exactly what you want. Let me…_ He stops, wondering if he’s gone too far, but your fingers are wrapped around his dick and your eyes are bright.

 _You beautiful man,_ you say to him. You wonder how much strength you have in your thighs. _If you’d have been first, I’d get on top and ride you until I came again._

Immediately, he massages your thighs, just as Igor had done. _No,_ he says, _you’re too exhausted. I should do the work; you should just get to lie there._

You turn onto your side, keeping your bottom leg straight, drawing your top knee up to your chin. _Get inside,_ you say, and he kneels over you, slipping in between your legs, letting out a deep _mmm_ as he gets as deep as he can go. _Fuck me,_ you repeat, _and let them see you do it._

He obeys, and the surprise with Brett is that his hips move like no one else’s, deep undulating motions that make you cry out into your pillow. _God,_ you groan, and he’s so _deep_ and it feels like he’s making contact with every inch of your pussy all at once. It’s so much to handle, and his curls are stuck to his forehead and he’s staring at you with those green eyes like you’re a goddess incarnate and it’s too much to take. You’re coming for him again in moments, and the second you clench around him and cry his name he’s coming too.

You pull him close again. _You’re a fucking wonder,_ you manage, breathless. _I want you again._

You think he might come again just from knowing that.

  
XII.

The pile of cards on the table is larger than the pile left in the bowl. _Hayesie,_ Chris says, and it’s like the tension in the room breaks. Kevin’s been ready to go since he came into the room. Kevin’s also a good friend, and you remember vividly the conversation you had about this exact situation years ago, before Kevin went to Philly, before Chris was seriously being considered for captain. You were all drunk and Kevin had mentioned the tradition and admitted that he would run an aggressive Kreider-for-captain campaign just to fuck you.

 _You didn’t even have to campaign,_ you say to Kevin, a cheeky grin on your face.

He laughs. _Oh, fuck. I swear to God I hoped everyone had forgotten that._

Playfully, you spread your legs. _Chance of a lifetime. What are you going to do?_

 _You are so unfairly hot,_ he says to you, _and I hope we can stay friends after I totally destroy you, because I got a lot of years of built up sexual frustration._

_So what do you want to do?_

He shakes his head. _Fuck, what don’t I want to do?_ He reaches down, covers your breasts with his large hands. _Let me think about it a little._

_You haven’t been plotting for two hours?_

_I keep getting distracted by what’s happening. I’ve never seen live porn before._

You laugh, enjoying the sensation of his rough hands all over your body, greedily touching you. He asks for a towel, eventually, and turns you on your stomach. _Face down, ass up,_ he says, and he cleans you up quickly before grabbing your ass roughly and planting his face right between, his tongue insistent, and somehow you _knew_ he’d be the kind of guy to love eating ass.

Eventually, his fingers find your pussy, and he’s got fingers inside of you and his tongue in your ass and his other hand reaching up to find your nipple and you almost feel like there’s three people there.

 _Fuck her, Hayesie,_ you hear Brady saying. He’s got a beer in his hand; he hasn’t bothered to put his shirt back on either. _You’ve waited for hours. Fuck her._

Ryan Lindgren jumps on that bandwagon, but you guess it’s out of impatience. _Do it,_ he says, _wreck her._

 _We want her exhausted,_ Vinni says. _She can still move. Fuck the hell out of her._

 _There’s only seven of us left before Hank,_ Brendan says. _Fuck her before she collapses._

 _Fuck her_ until _she collapses,_ Vinni insists, stepping forward, taking your chin in his hands. _You know what they say—when you get called up, you have to prove how good you are so you can stay. I’m going to make you scream until you’re hoarse. You better fuck her before I take my dick out and stick it in her mouth, Hayesie. She sounded so good like that earlier._

Kevin surfaces long enough to stare Vinni down. _It’s my turn,_ he says, _and of course I’m going to fuck her; but right now she’s mine and I’m going to have her exactly how I want her._

You go a little weak at his possessiveness. Vinni backs off and Kevin returns to your ass, and he’s a messy eater; saliva drips down, runs off your pussy lips, hits the bed. You hit the bed shortly thereafter, as Kevin decides he’s moving on; he pushes you down on the bed, flat on your stomach, and pushes two fingers into your ass. _You like having your ass played with,_ he says, and it’s a statement, not a question; it’s obvious, based on your reactions tonight, but you also wonder how much Chris has told him over the years. _I can’t believe you can come from this alone. I want you to do it for me._

It won’t be difficult; you’re already sensitive, and Kevin knows what he’s doing with those fingers. He fucks you with them, curving them in a come-hither motion inside of you, and you’re whimpering into the pillow when he turns you over. It’s even better this way, with you on your back, looking up at him, and you squirt hard when you finally come. The hand that isn’t inside of you rubs your cum all over his stomach. _Fuck,_ is all he can say. _Fuck._

He pulls his fingers out.

 _Fuck her ass,_ Brady says. _Fuck her there._

 _Her pussy’s just as good,_ Ryan Strome says.

 _You didn’t have her ass,_ Brady argues back, and Igor shrugs, agreeing.

Ryan Strome looks at you hungrily. _Maybe we should stay long enough for all of us to sample all three._

Adam bites his lip. _I’d love to get in her again. Fuck._

Kevin’s tempted to take your ass, you can tell, but he lies down next to you instead. _Give me that mouth,_ he says to you. _I know you’re a fucking legend. If you can get Chris down your throat…_

You smile weakly, and now you know Chris has been talking, but you’re not even remotely upset. You force yourself onto your elbows; you can barely move, your body has been so racked with orgasms. You feel like you’ve ran a marathon at sprinting speeds. You manage to get into position, palms flat on either side of Kevin’s hips, and you lower your mouth onto him until your lips meet his pelvis.

 _Fuck,_ he says. He turns to Chris. _Kreids. Jesus Christ._

 _I told you she was good,_ Chris says.

 _I didn’t know you meant_ this _good,_ Kevin says, and you catch Mika out of the corner of your eye, the tiniest smile on his face, surely thinking of the things you’ve done to him with your mouth.

He evidently doesn’t want to come there, though, because after a few minutes he’s pulling you off, picking you up. Vinni licks his lips at the way you look; you _feel_ like a ragdoll in Kevin’s strong arms, because as much as you’re trying to lock your legs around his waist, you can’t, and he’s in your ear as he pins you to the wall. _You let go, baby doll,_ he whispers, _I got you._

You go limp in his arms and your head rests on his shoulder; you kiss his neck, and he leans into you. Despite his promise, he’s only got two hands, and he’s having trouble staying inside while your legs drop. It’s Brady who comes over, gesturing for Jacob, and they hold your legs for Kevin as he thrusts into you, watching your face in awe, letting out an _oh, fuck_ as you repeat his name over and over. You can’t come, you’re sure of it, and you’re not going to try; you just want Kevin to be able to fulfill his fantasy. You can still manage to clench around him, and he holds onto you tightly as he empties himself inside you.

He carries you back to the bed, lays you down. _Fucking you,_ he says, _is_ so _much better than jacking off into a sock and thinking about fucking you._ He’s wearing a big smile.

You laughed. He was always crass, but he also has a big heart.

 _You good? You want anything before I hand you off to the next one?_ he asks, and you ask for a glass of water, which he happily provides.

XIII.

Chris draws the next card from the dwindling pile. _Smitty._

He’s not the only one who steps forward. _How do you have a room full of us and not have a proper gangbang,_ purrs Julien Gauthier, and he’s still a stranger to you; his gaze is appraising, his hands land on your shoulders as he stands at the head of the bed. You’ve always loved French-Canadian accents, and his is no different; you will him to keep talking.

Phil Di Giuseppe traces your lips. _I want her mouth._

 _I want that ass,_ Brendan says.

Julien smiles. _Get up, then._ He gets underneath you and six hands guide you, putting you on top of Julien, sliding his cock into your pussy. You bend over and Phil stands, ready for you; you take his dick into your mouth. Behind you, Brendan runs his hands over your ass and smacks it once before pushing into you. You moan around Phil as Julien rolls a nipple between his fingers and pinches hard, a satisfied smile on his face as you cry out. Phil takes your head in his hands, placing his fingers where he can feel his cock slide down your throat as he thrusts; Brendan is deep in your ass one moment, and dangerously close to slipping out, past the first ring of muscle, the next. It’s Julien who’s relentless, fucking into you from beneath you, and then Brendan picks up his pace; it’s like they’re fighting each other for you while they’re both inside you. Julien thrusts up and pulls you in; Brendan goes deep and pulls you back. It’s too much. You recall Kevin’s words: _You think she’ll last through all of this?_

The hands are grabbing and pulling and playing, and it feels like they’re everywhere. You’re full to bursting with cock. Phil’s pulling your hair and Brendan’s spanking you and you don’t know if you’ll last. You’ll let them keep coming though, you know that; you’re too proud to want a break. You want the whole experience. You want to push every limit you have.

Phil pulls back and comes all over your face; he misses your eyes, but you can taste him while you’re screaming for Brendan and Julien, while Phil stands there, _fuck her, fuck her harder,_ his cock still in his hand, and you feel a frenzy rising. The room wants to see you destroyed. You want it too, just as much as they all do, and you know Vinni is going to let you have it when it’s his turn, and you’re crying out again, _Brendan, and_ Julien grabs your breasts and pulls you down to him, _say my name,_ he demands, and you’re screaming for both of them until the syllables all slur together and there’s no discernible name on your lips. They come, Brendan first, Julien second, and you collapse as they pull out. Phil turns you on your back, grabs you under the shoulders, hauls you up so you’re half-sitting; Vinni steps forward, almost as if he’s in a trance, and smears their cum all over you, on your thighs, on your stomach. He steps forward, looks you in the eye, and licks a bit off of your face. You tremble; you didn’t expect that from him.

XIV.

 _Vinni,_ Chris says, and a dark grin spreads over his face.

 _Not last,_ he says, still staring at you. _But I’ll take it. You’re in just the shape I want you to be. Covered in cum. Barely able to move. Our own personal breathing sex toy. Look at you._

You’re actually a little bit scared, but it’s the good sort of thrill; you don’t know Vinni well, but there are so many people in this room you _do_ know well and you _do_ trust that you’re comfortable with how vulnerable you are right now. You’ve got a safeword, and you know this room would not let him ignore it.

 _Haley said he loves a dirty girl,_ Vinni says. _He has no idea._

He looks around the room. _Who’s gone already and can come again? Get the fuck up here. I want her to be covered._

Phil lays you down on the bed. Adam comes back, and Ryan Strome, and Pavel. Brady is ready again. Lias is there. You’re surrounded, naked bodies, cocks in hands, so many people reaching out to touch you, to play with you, that you have no idea who is who—there are just too many. You lay there, already wet with Julien and Brendan and Phil, as one after the other comes all over you, again and again and again, until Igor—the last one—comes directly on your pussy, while Vinni stands at the head of the bed, holding your legs apart and in the air, telling you how good you look covered in their cum.

You get a glimpse of Chris and he’s unbuttoned his pants. This has pushed him over the edge. You know him, and you know that he wants more than anything to come fuck you while you look like this. But he can’t. You’re not his right now; you won’t be until Henrik is finished with you.

Vinni lets your legs fall back to the bed and slowly runs one finger through all the cum, from your pussy to your collarbone, and traces your lips with it; then he pushes his fingers into your mouth, making you clean them off.

_Do we taste good?_

You nod. You can’t speak.

He places his hand flat on your stomach, and coats his cock in cum. _Lube,_ you recall him saying earlier, and you draw in a sharp breath. Your ass aches; is he really—

He throws your legs in the air and slides into your ass, and you know you’re going to be _so_ sore, but you can’t bring yourself to care. _Touch yourself,_ he demands.

 _Vinni,_ you say, barely able to speak, _I can’t come again—_

 _I didn’t ask,_ he says. _Get your hands dirty. Touch yourself all over. Give me a show._

Despite yourself, despite your exhaustion, you do. You run your hands over your own body, slick with the cum of nine? ten? you don’t know how many men. You pinch your own nipples, you let your fingers wander to your clit, running around it. Vinni watches you hungrily as he fucks you, holding your ankles tightly in the air, and it doesn’t take him long to come, and you’re whimpering his name as you come again, at the same time as him, and you wonder how the hell you’re still able to even orgasm.

Vinni drops you on your legs and looks over at Ryan Lindgren, who looks ravenous. _I hope you’re next,_ he says.

XV.

Chris lets out a breath. _Georgie._

Alex looks at you for a long moment. _Towels,_ he says, and it’s Mika who goes to get them, and the two of them clean you up. Mika squeezes your shoulder as he does it; initially, the look on his face is one of concern, but when he sees how absolutely blissed-out you are, he relaxes. The towels are hot and Mika tucks one between your legs, and your muscles thank him for it. When they’ve cleaned the cum from your face and your torso, Mika takes the towels and withdraws, and Alex gets into bed with you. He straddles you, silent and intent, eyes dark and intense as they always are, and he bends to whisper in your ear. _You want me to take it easy on you?_

You reach up to him. He wears no expression. You want to kiss him, so you do– you pull him close, twine your arms around his neck, and kiss him until you need to take a breath. Your reward is the tiniest smile. _I want you to do whatever you want,_ you answer.

 _You are tired,_ he says. He reaches down to push hair from your sweaty forehead. He places a large hand over your pussy, and you sigh, closing your eyes at the gentle touch. _Tired and sore._

You nod, because it’s the truth.

 _I can just use my hand,_ he says, _come on you._

His stolid expression betrays no hint of what he wants.

 _Alex,_ you say tenderly, and you’ve been having all sorts of revelations tonight. _Be gentle and take what you want._

 _Tell me,_ he says, _if it’s too much._

When he steps out of his pants and boxers, you’re met with the sight of a cock that’s not that much smaller than Chris’, and now you know why he was so hesitant. You squeeze his hand and smile. _I want you in me,_ you say, and he gives you another tiny smile.

 _Usually I would say you go on top,_ he says, _to let you control how much of me you have, but I don’t think you can do that tonight._

You smile. _No, I can’t._

 _I’ll be careful with you then,_ he says, rocking slowly into you, and you sigh blissfully as he fucks you. His thrusts are slow, measured, and he watches your face carefully for all the nuances in expression that he’d never show. You wonder what he looks like when he’s in the throes of an orgasm; you’ve rarely seen his face alive with any sort of expression other than the rare, delightful smiles that happen when he’s genuinely amused at something.

 _Alex,_ you breathe, and you’re whispering because you’ve screamed so much tonight. He bends closer to you and you put your arms around him. He lifts you— _cross your legs,_ he says, and helps you move them into position. He’s got his legs crossed too, and his hands under your ass. You didn’t know you could manage lotus position at this level of exhaustion, but he’s strong enough to hold you, to lift you up and down, and you appreciate both the closeness and the control. _Too deep?_ he asks, and you realize he’s giving you the power to ride him without having to exert yourself, and you are so thankful for Alex Georgiev at this moment in time.

 _Perfect,_ you tell him, because it is.

_Do you want to come again?_

You shake your head. _I want you to,_ you say, placing a hand on his chest.

_Okay._

He continues to fuck you, still slow, still measured, and it’s almost putting you in a trance, a trance you snap out of when his breathing hitches and he starts calling your name. You watch his face, and it’s like a different person is inside of you, an Alex you had no idea existed, and his face is alive. You reach up to touch it, just to make sure it’s real; he comes inside of you, your name on his lips, and you’re rapt.

He smiles, lays you down. He says something.

Chris and the Russians are both confused; you assume, then, it was in Bulgarian.

You’re flushed. Your voice is nearly gone. Jesper Fast, Ryan Lindgren and Henrik Lundqvist have yet to fuck you.

XVI.

 _Quickie,_ Chris says.

Ryan’s about to climb the wall.

 _You can touch her,_ Jesper says to Ryan, and Ryan’s throwing his clothes aside.

_I’m going to be fucking ready when it’s my turn, and it’s my turn next. Hank’s going last, I’m next._

Jesper smiles down at you. _I’m going to be nice,_ he says, glancing at Ryan, _because he’s not._

Ryan raises an eyebrow in agreement as he runs his hands over your body. _You did look pretty covered in cum,_ he says, as Jesper slides into you. _If I was next, I would have kept you looking like that._

You glare up at him. You want to punch him. You always have. _What’s stopping you? There’s a room full of your teammates probably ready to do it again._

 _Impatience,_ he answers. _The second you’re mine, I’m gonna be balls deep inside you, making you beg me to come._

You want to punch him again. But _god_ you want him, and you have no desire to admit that to yourself, even as he stands over you, his dick hard on your cheekbone, his eyes glittering with thoughts of what he’s about to do to you.

Jesper fucks you steadily, hard enough but not so hard that it hurts any more than it needs to. You’ve had twelve dicks in your pussy and you’re sore. You’re so sore. _Two more,_ you think.

The door opens, and a new silhouette appears in the door. You look past Jesper and you wonder if you’ve been fucked so hard and so long that you’re seeing things. You swear Ryan McDonagh just walked in.

 _Mac,_ Brady greets him, and you have no idea what’s happening anymore.

Your confusion must be reflected in your eyes. It’s Chris who tells you. _The last captain,_ he explains. _Passing the torch._

Vaguely, you remember Chris saying he’d be there, but you must have forgotten. He’s moving through the room, apologizing for being late, casually chatting with Brady as they watch Jesper fuck you.

Ryan Lindgren is still talking, but your eyes have landed on Henrik again. His eyes have now narrowed, and he’s sitting forward in his chair, scrutinizing every hitch in your breath, every moan and motion, every tiny detail. _I’m going to die at his hands,_ you think.

Jesper’s coming then, his fingers gripping your hips, and you wonder how many bruises you’ll have in that area in the morning.

XVII.

Chris doesn’t need to read the name.

It’s come to this. He circles you like a shark. _Look at you. Exhausted. Fucked out. Completely wrecked. You’ve had twenty of us inside you._ He strokes your cheek, softly, as a lover might. _Is it worth it for Chris to have that letter?_

You stare him down. _Absolutely._

_You’d do anything for him._

You nod.

 _Well, I haven’t fucked you yet,_ he says, a smirk crossing his face, and your heart stops, wondering what the fuck his plan is. _I didn’t even come on you. You know the rule. Tradition says the whole team has to come. Every one of us. Or he doesn’t get that letter, and you’ve let twenty people fuck you for nothing._

 _Kaapo didn’t,_ you protest.

_Because he designated Vinni as his stand-in. I’m not fucking designating anybody. It’s me or no one._

_You little piece of shit,_ you spit, _what do you want?  
_

He climbs over you and leans menacingly close. _Beg for it. I want you to beg me to fuck you. I know you want me. Beg me to put my dick in you like it’s the only thing that’s ever mattered in your life. And you better sound like you fucking mean it._

You have never wanted to punch him more. He’s got you over a barrel and he fucking knows it, the cocky little asshole, and as much as you want to turn the tables and push him over and make _him_ beg for _you,_ you know that isn’t happening. You’re too weak.

 _Please fuck me_ , you say weakly.

 _Hey,_ Ryan shouts, _everyone shut up! I want the whole fucking room to hear her say it._

 _Fuck me,_ you repeat. _Please._

 _I’m not convinced._ He bends down, taking a nipple into his mouth, and then runs his hands down your body, resting his palms on your thighs. _This whole body belongs to me right now,_ he says, _and I’m not using it until you convince me._ He slides three fingers into your pussy, and you cry out. _All wet with cum, ready for me. What do you want, princess?_

 _Please, Ryan,_ you say, _fuck me, please._

He narrows his eyes. _Why? I’m still not convinced I should._

Your head lolls on the pillow, and you gesture weakly at Chris. _He’s going to be captain,_ you manage hoarsely.

Ryan sets his hand possessively on your pussy and grabs your chin. _And what if he wasn’t? What if Mika already had the C and you just found me in your bedroom, princess? You’d want me, wouldn’t you? Say it. Fucking admit it. You want me in you and you’ve wanted me in you before we got to this goddamn hotel room, say it—_

 _Yes,_ you cry out, and he’s broken you, and you’re not proud but it’s the truth and he’s so _fucking_ satisfied by it.

He’s in your face again. He runs his tongue over your lips. He looks you in the eyes. _Well if you want me so badly,_ he says, _you just have to convince me._

_Please, Ryan, I’m fucking begging you, just goddamn get it over with, I hate you and I want you so badly, just fuck me, just fuck me…_

_Mmm._ He smirks. _That I believe._

He’s rock-hard when he enters you, thick, stretching you out, and you suppose it’s a good warm-up for Hank. He’s not like Alex, not like Jesper, not like Mika; there’s no hint of taking it easy on you, no inclination that he’s not going to fuck you until you cry. Looking up at him, you’d have it no other way.

 _Tell me again,_ he says, drunk on power, and you can tell he enjoys the audience around you. He likes the eyes on you both.

 _I want you,_ you tell him. _Fuck you, and I want you._

 _Good girl,_ he says. He stands up, moves to the foot of the bed, and pulls you so roughly that your hips come off the bed. He holds your legs in the air, resting your ankles on his shoulders, and when he gets back inside of you, your scream rips through the room. You have no strength; you’re limp in his grip, you’re at his mercy, and he’s out to take everything he wants. _Fuck,_ he says, _you’re so tight even after all of us. I knew this pussy would be a good place to come._

You’re panting, twisting the sheets in your fists, crying out, _Ryan, Ryan,_ and he just growls at you— _beg for it, beg for it or I’ll edge you for hours, I fucking swear it._

You don’t need to. You’re coming in the middle of his sentence, and he’s wet with you, and that somehow only makes him fuck you harder—he doesn’t stop, not for you to catch your breath after your orgasm, and he only says one word. _Beg._

 _Please, please, Ryan, please,_ the words drip from your mouth and you’re not even sure what you’re begging for anymore, but you’ll do anything for Chris and right now Ryan has you eating out of the palm of his hand and you can’t help it. He’s broken you and you want him and the sensations coursing through your body are past the limit of anything you’ve ever experienced. You can no longer tell the difference between pleasure and pain. You have no idea whether there’s something stimulating your ass or if it’s the ghost of his fingers on you earlier. You are, as he said, completely fucked out, and you still have two to go.

It feels so good, _so good,_ and there are tears running down your face as you come again; Chris leans forward, intending to check on you, but you wave him back, letting him know you’re okay. _Ryan,_ you wail, and you _are_ crying, and Ryan pauses but doesn’t hear your safeword so he keeps going, holding you up until he finally comes hard inside of you.

Before he backs away, he dips his fingers inside of you and makes you lick them off. _You’ll remember the way I taste,_ he says.

You’re too dizzy to tell him to get fucked.

XVIII.

Ryan McDonagh comes over to you. He’s taken off his hat and he’s unbuttoning his shirt. _You’re a mess,_ he says, placing a hand on your shoulder. You haven’t seen him in a long time, and you can’t help but smile; he laughs. _You know, Chris participated in this when I was elected captain._

You blink back at him; you can’t form thoughts at the moment.

Ryan looks over at Chris. _Do you remember that? Do you remember what you did?_

Chris sits up in his chair, clears his throat. _Mac,_ he begins.

 _It’s not his fault. Kreids literally carries a fuckin’ baseball bat between his legs,_ Adam says.

Marc Staal laughs. _It wasn’t that. He left marks. He left so fucking many marks on her. He spent I swear to God twenty minutes. Her thighs were covered in bruises. He was power-hungry._

You look at Chris, aghast, and he wears a tiny smirk.

Ryan pulls out a paddle.

You’ve seen them before, paddles like this, with letters cut out of them. They’re intended to mark words on skin, you know. They’re for humiliation and pain. This one doesn’t say the usual—it doesn’t say _slut,_ or _whore,_ or anything like that. It says _Ryan._

Ryan runs his hand through your hair. _You can take some pain, can’t you, honey?_

You nod.

He brings the paddle down hard on your thigh; when he raises it, the imprint of his name appears, the negative space in the red.

 _This,_ says Ryan Lindgren, _has an unintended consequence._ He smirks at you.

 _Fuck you,_ you say, pressing your lips together immediately after as the former captain smacks your other thigh.

 _Twenty minutes,_ you say, looking up at Ryan, and he smiles. _Twenty minutes._

He doesn’t stop; there’s no letting up. He does give the paddle a break, and he decorates the spaces between his name with dark bruises. He’s left an _A_ on your labia and he sucks at it, hoping to leave a bruise in the wake of his lips. He turns you over and spanks you there, too, until your ass and the backs of your thighs and calves bear his name, over and over and over.

Not until twenty minutes have passed does he ditch the paddle, take off his pants, and reap the rewards of having served as the last Rangers’ captain. Your voice is nearly gone, but when he demands that you say his name, you do, and you’re sure you repeat it as many times as your body bears the word. You’re done. You’re so tired. You can’t come anymore. You’re sore and satisfied and so happy.

Ryan comes, withdraws, kisses you on the chin. _He’ll remember my face for a few days,_ he says, grinning at Chris, and Chris just shakes his head, smiling.

You breathe in. Your lungs hurt.

There’s one more.

XIX.

Henrik rises from his chair, slowly, setting his empty martini glass to the side. _Towels,_ he demands, and it’s Libor who gets them this time. Henrik, though, does not lift a finger. He looks at Mika. _Clean her up thoroughly,_ he instructs, and he’s so authoritative that Mika simply sits his drink down and does what he says. _Gently,_ Henrik adds.

You can’t shake the feeling that Henrik has chosen Mika because he _knows._ He’s been watching you so closely all night that you’re sure he must have realized it wasn’t Mika’s first time with you.

Mika takes care of you, carefully turning you, cleaning the remnants of his teammates’ cum from your body, setting a cool washcloth on your forehead. Chris looks on approvingly, and you know he’s glad that it’s Mika who’s been instructed to do this.

Henrik has brought things, you notice. You can’t tell what they are, but he’s setting them on the table.

 _Change the bed,_ he says, without looking up. _I’m not kneeling in the rest of your cum. And put the bed back against the wall._

A wordless exchange takes place, and Mika lifts you into his arms, holding you while Ryan Strome disposes of the protective pad and Alex lays out a new one. They, with the help of Jesper, slide the bed back to the wall. Mika sets you back down.

Henrik eyes Ryan Lindgren and Lias Andersson. “Maybe you’ll learn something about how to take control,” he says, and it’s Ryan McDonagh who smiles, remembering what Henrik had done for his wife, remembering how good of a dom he was last time.

He approaches you, and he’s carrying a diamond choker necklace and a pair of leather gloves. He helps you to sit up; you lean against the headboard, sagging, barely able to hold yourself up. You remember that Ryan’s wife had a necklace like that, and you wonder briefly, before he speaks.

 _Chris is giving you to me tonight,_ he says. _I mark my things in better ways than my friends. If you let me put this collar on you, you are telling me you consent to being mine._

 _I’ll be yours,_ you tell him.

 _Bow your head,_ he tells you, and he clasps it at your throat. _It’s yours to keep. You’ve been though a great deal for our team tonight, haven’t you?_

You nod.

 _Now you’re mine,_ he says, _but you have to earn my touch._ He slips on the leather gloves and rests his hand on your open thigh. The leather is cool to the touch. _Tell me; do you want me to touch you?_

You’ve wanted Henrik for longer than you can count. You were attracted to him before you even started dating Chris. This is the encounter you’ve been waiting for. You want him more than you can properly articulate.

 _Hank,_ you say, and your voice is hoarse and your throat is sore. Your eyes meet his. _All I want is to please you._

 _Good girl,_ he says, but you evidently haven’t earned his touch yet; he’s still wearing his gloves. He slides one leather-clad finger into your pussy, and you sigh. _Who do you belong to?_

_You._

_You’ll ask for my permission to come._

_Yes._

_You’ll ask for my permission for everything._

You want his finger to move. You want him to touch you, with his bare hands. _Henrik, I swear to God, anything. I will. I promise._

In the background, Chris has a smile on his face, knowing how badly you’ve wanted this—he’d have invited Henrik ages ago, but Therese’s rule is that this is his only hall pass. You’re _so_ glad that he hasn’t retired, so glad that you are going to finally get this.

 _How do I earn your touch,_ you ask.

Henrik can’t resist glancing at Ryan Lindgren. _There’s more begging in those six words than in all the screaming she did for you,_ he says lightly, and Ryan snarls, and you think you might be in love with Henrik Lundqvist.

 _How,_ you press, and he brings his finger out of your pussy, pushing it into your mouth, and you lick your wetness off of his glove.

 _Impress me,_ he says simply.

He lies down on his back, and you know what you’re meant to do, but you’re so weak. You’re so fucking weak. But when will you ever have him in your bed again?

You’re about to reach for his zipper when you remember. _May I unzip your pants and take you out?_

_Yes._

You undo his belt and quickly realize he isn’t wearing anything under his trousers. You pull him out, and he’s just as big as everyone always says. He’s thicker and longer than Chris, and you remember how long it took you to get used to Chris.

You size him up and lick from base to tip. You look around the room. You’re fairly sure Igor and Pavel are making another bet. You look back at Henrik. _May I?_

_You may._

You can barely hold yourself up. You poise your mouth and lick your lips and will yourself to stay up; and then you take him, slowly, slowly, past your soft palate, into your throat, pushing past your gag reflex, concentrating, until your lips hit his pelvis and you hear several audible _holy fucks_ and _no ways_ from the men surrounding you. You push yourself, making your tongue press against him and swirl, and your reward is a pleased groan from Hank.

You come off and collapse onto the bed, and Henrik turns to Chris. _We may have to work something out,_ he says, and you have never heard more beautiful words. He pulls off his leather gloves. _I’m impressed,_ he tells you.

 _Are you pleased?_ you ask, knowing the answer.

_Not yet._

He straddles you, still in his full suit, entirely covered except for his cock. He bends over you, the fabric of his suit smooth against your skin, and you love it, the idea that you can’t see any of him but he can touch any part of you he wants, the idea that you’re his to use but he’s not even yours to _see._

Though you do hope he removes it at some point.

 _I want you to squirt all over me,_ he says in your ear, and you shiver. _I will not remove this suit unless you give me a reason to do it. Is that clear?_

You nod. You loop your arms around his neck. _Please,_ you say, _stay right here. This is the best angle._

His eyes flash. _Is that a command?_

 _A suggestion,_ you say quickly, _only a suggestion, I just want to do what you want._

He remains there, and when he slides into you, your eyes water. He starts off slowly, giving you time to get used to him, but since you’ve had an entire hockey team in your pussy, he doesn’t need to give you all that much time. He moves faster, harder. You wonder wildly if letting Henrik be last was a terrible call; your body could barely handle both Ryans, how are you going to possibly come for Henrik?

But he’s too good. He knows just how to move his hips, just where to put his fingers, just how to lift your legs. He’s been watching every single person fuck you like he’s been analyzing game film, and he knows your weaknesses now, you realize—you see it in his eyes, he knows you wants your hips raised and his mouth on your chest, he’s calculating, he knows he can’t do both but moving your hips will make you come harder.

 _Hank,_ you squeak out, _can I come—can I—_

 _Yes,_ he says, and you are absolutely in awe of him as you come just as hard as you did earlier in the night.

He kisses you. _Just as I asked,_ he praises you. _Good girl._

He stands, and you watch him undress, a process that seems to take hours. You’ve soaked his suit, as he instructed, and the clothes fall into a pile on the floor. You could stare at him for hours, but he’s climbing back over you immediately, and you hope you’ll remember all this in the morning. You feel dizzy now, lightheaded, and you reach up to touch him, trying to convince yourself you aren’t in a dream.

He seizes your wrist. _Ask._

 _Can I touch you,_ you say, and he grants you permission; you plunge your fingers into his hair and you want more, you want everything, you can’t function and you don’t even know what everything is—you just want Henrik to give it to you.

 _I’m going to come,_ he says.

You nod.

He fucks you even harder than he just had been, and your voice breaks. If you were crying when Ryan fucked you, you’re bawling now, and Henrik hears his name in a mess of words and sounds and shrieks, and he’s pleased to have this effect on you; they’re good tears, he can tell because he asks and you say _yes_ and he’s already trained you well enough to know you’ll answer the question truthfully. When he finally comes, the last in a long line, you curl up—your body is done—but you’d let him again, you’d let him if he wanted to.

He brushes tears from your face. _Chris should be proud of you,_ he says, covering you with a sheet. _What a woman he has._

The next few moments are a blur. People exit the room, until the only ones left are you and Chris. You can hear the voices dwindle as they say their goodbyes and call their Ubers and head out.

Chris is at your side immediately. _Are you okay?_

You’re grinning wildly. _Physically? I’ll tell you in the morning,_ you say, and he laughs.

He gathers towels to clean you up, gets you a bottle of water and a glass of wine, and brings over a monstrous box of chocolate. He helps you to sit up, and you fall into his arms. _God,_ you say, _what a night._

 _I’m going to have to masturbate,_ Chris says, _I’m sorry, but I can’t handle all this pent-up sexual frustration. Watching that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my whole fucking life and all I want to do is fuck you but—well, I’m obviously not putting you through another round._

The door opens, and Mika slips into the room. _I just thought I’d check in before I left. See if there was anything you guys needed._

You and Chris exchange a look.


	2. [bonus chapter: mika sticks around]

_Chris never got to come._ You’re the one who says it, because you know neither of them will. _It’s possible he could use some help._

Chris opens his mouth to speak, but Mika closes the door behind him and comes to sit on the bed. He rests a hand on your leg. _She can’t help,_ Mika says to Chris, a statement of fact. _She’s too exhausted._

He nods.

_She was so happy to be used,_ Mika continues, smiling at you. _I wouldn’t mind feeling a little used._ He finally looks up tentatively at Chris, who has an amount of bedsheet balled up in his fist, his jaw clenched, and you think he might pass out.

It’s a moment before Chris can speak. _Are you—are you offering—_

_To let you inside me?_

Chris sucks in a breath. _Yeah._

Mika smiles. _Yes._

_Can you—I mean, I—_

_Like Adam said, he carries a baseball bat between his legs,_ you offer, and they both laugh. It eases the tension a little bit.

Mika’s confident. _I know I can._

Chris is staring at him, and he crosses the room, grabs a few towels and a bottle of lube, and steps out of his clothes for the second time tonight. There’s plenty of room next to you on the bed, and he lies down next to you.

Chris moves like he’s in a dream; his pants have been undone for a while, and he leaves them on the floor with his shirt as he moves to the other side of the bed. _I can’t believe we’re doing this,_ he says, as Mika spreads his legs.

_Don’t tell me you haven’t wanted to,_ Mika says, and the reply is more direct than you’d expect from him. _God knows I have. The times the three of us have been in bed together, and we’re so fucking close to each other…_

 _Yeah,_ Chris admits. _I have. When I can feel your dick when we’re both fucking her? Yeah. Yes._

 _I suppose, this whole night is so fucking wild, we might as well,_ Mika says, and he’s smiling.

Chris warms him up with a pair of fingers, and you’ve never heard Mika moan like this. You wonder what he’ll sound like when Chris gets inside of him. He’s writhing in bed next to you, arching his hips to meet Chris’ hand, and the look on Chris’ face tells you that he’s not going to last much longer.

He removes his fingers and Mika’s legs are spread wide, his foot touching yours; he’s holding his ass wide so Chris can slide in. Chris is slow, careful, and Mika groans as he enters.

_Does it hurt?_ Chris asks.

Mika grins, his lip caught on his teeth. _Yes—but I like it._

 _Of course you do,_ you tell him; you’re on your side and you can see his face, eyelashes fluttering as Chris continues to push forward, and you set a hand on his arm. He smiles at your remark; he’s made it no secret to the two of you that he’s submissive.

You watch, impressed, as Chris inches further and further inside of him, until they’re pressed together and he can go no further. Mika has taken all of him.

_You feel so fucking amazing,_ Mika eventually manages. _God, you’re so hard._

Chris begins to thrust, slowly, again, being careful not to hurt Mika, but Mika seizes his wrist. _Fuck me,_ he pleads, and the tone of his voice is the same as the tone you used to ask Henrik how to impress him; it’s a supplication. You realize Mika has probably wanted to do this for a lot longer than either you or Chris know. Something stirs between your legs; your body can’t handle any more tonight, but your brain wants it to.

Mika’s got his hand around his cock now, stroking, and Chris is breathing hard. _Mika,_ he moans, finally, and you let go of an audible sigh. Chris is straining, he’s close, he’s trying to hold off so Mika can come at the same time, but he can’t control it for long; you watch Mika’s face as Chris comes inside of him, and feeling that wet rush in his ass puts him over the edge; he comes too, painting Chris’ stomach and chest white. Chris stills, and he hasn’t exerted himself enough to have to catch his breath; it’s Mika’s cum all over him, Mika’s eyes looking up at him, the fact that he’s still _inside_ him that has him gasping for air.

Playfully, Mika runs his fingers through his own cum, drawing a _C_ on Chris’ chest.

_Captain,_ he says, and Chris exhales. Reluctantly, he removes himself from Mika.

_I suppose the alternate captain serves the one in charge,_ you say, and Mika smiles.

Chris shakes his head, still in disbelief. _Then I better keep you around for the rest of the night,_ he says, grabbing a towel for Mika. _Just in case I have any other needs._ As Chris pads into the other room to clean up, leaving two satisfied people in a bed behind him, he’s sure this is a dream he’s going to wake up from.

In the morning, though, those same two people are asleep beside him; room service has brought the breakfast tray into the other room; and when he goes out to retrieve the food, there’s a _C_ on the tray.


End file.
